


Fight the Good Fight

by HeroSavesPeople



Category: The Flash (TV 2014), westallen
Genre: Angst, F/M, Light Angst, Love, Mild Fluff, between B and I, little drabble bit, mild mentions of sexual abuse, supportive and loving spouses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 15:42:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15197990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeroSavesPeople/pseuds/HeroSavesPeople
Summary: Iris comes home one night with a heavy heart and Barry comforts her.  It was moments like these she felt limited by her job and wonders if she’s able to truly help people...But Barry reminds her that Iris West is a hero in her own right.





	Fight the Good Fight

**Author's Note:**

> A little bit about some of the harder days of Iris's job as a journalist.

_ “In times of profound change, the learners inherit the earth, while the learned find themselves beautifully equipped to deal with a world that no longer exists.” _

_ — Eric Hoffer _

 

* * *

 

 

Iris feels the heaviness in her body, the exhaustion descending full force as she walks into the loft, swinging the door shut behind her.  She hadn’t meant to put so much force behind the push, but the bang of the front door slamming startles her.

 

“Iris?”

 

She straightens her shoulders as she pulls back her coat and hangs it on the hanger by the door.  "Yeah, it’s me,“ she calls out softly. She sets her messenger bag on the table before walking out of the entryway.

 

Barry looks up over his shoulder from his place on the couch and smiles.  Despite the weight in her chest, the sight of his smile warms her, his eyes sparkling in a way that was just for her.  There were books and papers scattered across their coffee table where Iris presumed he was working on the latest Flash case.

 

"Your home later than I was expecting,” he murmurs as she leans over the back of the couch and pecks him on the lips.  She barely gives him time to return the kiss before she’s pulling away and heading toward the kitchen.

 

“Yeah, I ended up giving the source a ride home,” she sighs, pulling out a cup and filling it with water.

 

Barry gets up from the couch and walks toward the fridge.  "That was nice of you.“ He pulls out a plate full of food and takes off the saran wrap before sticking it in the microwave.

 

"Well, apparently he had taken two buses just to meet with me.  I felt bad, he didn’t mention his car being in the shop otherwise I would’ve gone to him.”

 

Barry shrugs, making his way over to her.  "Yeah, but you always make the source come to you.  It’s safer that way.“ He brushes a lock of hair from her cheek and Iris can’t help leaning into his touch, closing her eyes.  It was moments like these she really needed the Barry Treatment. His warmth that made her feel whole again on days she felt hollowed out. "You hungry?”

 

Iris shakes her head, the motion heavy as she opens her eyes.  "No, not really. Just tired.”

 

"You should really eat something.  Why don’t I run you a bath while you have your dinner?”

 

She shakes her head again and looks at him, the weight in her chest tightening and the longer he looked at her with his gentle eyes, the more Iris could feel the emotions bubbling up.  It must have shown on her face then because Barry looks at her carefully, his brows furrowing as he leans in closer.

 

“Iris?  What’s wrong?”

 

Iris leans back against the counter as the dam cracks.  She feels the prickle behind her eyes, her hand shaking as they come up to hover over her face even as she closes her eyes.  Her nose burns and much as she tried to push it back, she could feel the tears coming.   


 

“Iris?”  The concern is so palpable in his voice, his warm hands coming up to rub her arms and she tries to reassure him, but she can’t.  Her face crumples as she lets out a barely audible sob, the tears running down her cheeks. Her chest hurts with the suppressed sobs, her head pounding against the pressure.

 

She presses her middle finger and thumb against her temples, her hands trembling, trying to keep Barry from seeing her to no avail.  She feels his gentle hands come up, pulling her hand away and cupping her face until his thumbs come up over her temples. He presses lightly against them, trying to ease the tension as she takes a deep breath trying to temper the tears and the ache in her chest.

 

“Iris, please look at me, you’re scaring me.”  His voice is so quiet, hushed, as though he was afraid that even a whisper would cause her to crumble.

 

She sniffles and opens her eyes.  She feels like such a fool, crying and scaring her husband over something that didn’t even happen to her.  But after what she had heard that day and witnessing the devastation of a broken man, Iris felt the sorrow deep inside of her and couldn’t fight the sense of mourning she felt.  Mourning for innocence lost, mourning for broken hearts, mourning for ruined lives…

 

She looks at Barry who is watching her with such concern, his eyes flickering across her face, searching for the cause of her woes.  His brows are knitted in apprehension and Iris’s voice cracks as she tries to speak the words.

 

“I’m ok,” she breathes.  "Really, I’m ok, nothing happened to me.“

 

He looks at her in confusion, unconvinced as his thumbs rub against her temples.  She holds his wrists gently before turning away, needing libation for her suddenly dry mouth.  She takes a slow gulp of water under Barry’s watchful gaze who keeps a hand on her free one.

 

She exhales slowly, meeting his eyes again.  "It’s just-it’s just the story I’m working on.  It’s bigger than I thought it was.”

 

“You mean the one about the foster home embezzling government funding?”

 

Iris nods as her lips quiver, but this time she keeps the tears in check.  "Yeah,“ she says hoarsely. "The source that I met with today said that the HopeWell Home president has been doing this for years now, dating back to when he was thirteen, as far as he knows.  The source is twenty-five now, so that’s at least twelve years the president of the organization has been putting money allocated for the kids’ care into his own pockets.”

 

Barry listens intently, his focus unwavering upon her.

 

“The reason he knows what the president was doing was because,” she whispers.  “…as it turns out, the son of a bitch has an affinity for underage boys and girls.”

 

Barry’s face clears, understanding washing over him, but the tension remains as he takes in the implication of her words.  He grits his teeth and Iris feels the flex of his hand in her own. 

 

“ _ Jesus _ .”

 

“Yeah,” Iris nods, looking away and trying to fight the choked feeling in her chest.  "When he told me, I could tell he was trying to be strong. He was trying to be strong for the sake of exposing the bastard, for the greater good, for all the others that couldn’t come forward, but…he finally broke down right there in the diner.  And I just, I wanted to find that monster and… _ hurt  _ him.  Because, I felt so powerless, trying to comfort him when really what could I say to make it better?  To erase those years of pain and torment?“

 

Barry steps closer, his eyes glassy.  "Oh Iris, but you’re not powerless.” He squeezes her hand again, waiting for her to meet his gaze.  She woefully looks up at him, her eyes shining with the threat of fresh tears. “You may not be able to take his pain away, but you can bring him peace by telling his story and putting the monster behind bars.  You can be the voice for those that have lost it or need an iron force looking out for them. And that’s you, Iris. That has _always_ been you." 

 

She shrugs and lets out a sniffle.  “I don’t know. Sometimes it’s hard you know?  I wonder, do people even listen? Do people even listen to the words and even care to do anything at all?”

 

Barry furrows his brows at her in confusion, wondering if she truly believed that.  “Of course they do, Iris. How could you say that? Look at all the good you have done in the past.  Even when you were just running a blog while spending hours on your dissertation and picking up shifts at Jitters, you were making a difference.  You touched people’s lives and gave them hope.”

 

He looks away and shakes his head before looking back at her.  "You know, you said to me that I was the light everyone needs when the world goes dark, that it’s what makes me a great speedster.  But, I wonder if you realize that’s been you all along. You have  _ always  _ been the kind of person that ran to protect people and you’ve been protecting  _ me  _ our whole lives.  You have always been the light everyone needed and that’s what you bring with your words.  You shine a light on stories left unspoken.”

 

As Iris soaks in his words, she could feel her eyes well up with tears but for different reasons this time.  She takes a deep breath, sniffling hard as the fire in her chest burns with resolve.  She knew he was right because bringing hope to her city was what made her fall in love with journalism. Exploiting the corrupt to save victims was why she fought to chase stories.  Enlightening the cheated is why she sought to speak the truth and make the city feel safe.

 

There were days she wondered if she truly was making a difference at all.  Watching Barry risk his life everyday, seeing how he touched people sometimes made her wonder if she could ever do the same.  When the time came that she would lie in her deathbed and look back on her life, could she honestly say she did everything she could to help the world?  As she pondered Barry's words, she realizes...yes, yes she did.  And she would continue to fight everyday.

 

Maybe she didn’t have superpowers to cuff people and throw them into prison, but she did have power.  She did have a voice and strong sense of will. And where there was a will, there was a way. She would damn well bring  justice. 

 

She just may need a little assistance along the way.

 

And as though Barry read her mind, he cups the side of her face and smiles down at her. “And I want you to know that your husband is also at your service.  CSI Allen, The Flash, however you need me I’m going to help you, Iris.“

 

She lets out a watery chuckle at his foresight.  "Yeah, I’m going to need your expertise to collect evidence on him.”

 

“Anything, I’m at your beck and call.”

 

Iris looks up at her husband, the ache in her chest easing with every passing second.  She was so grateful to have him in her corner when the darkness felt suffocating. Grateful to have her true north standing strong by her.   

 

She reaches up and pulls Barry into her arms.  "Thank you,“ she whispers, burrowing into his neck.

 

He returns her embrace with just as much ardor, his hands smoothing up her back.   "You never have to thank me.”

 

She holds him tight for a long moment before pulling away and kissing him with a renewed energy.  The dead weight that had descended upon her body was lifted with a sense of purpose as she walks over to the microwave with power in her steps and takes out her dinner.  The timer had gone off awhile ago but the food was still warm enough to be edible and while her appetite hadn’t made an appearance, she had a long night ahead of her.

 

“I’m glad you decided to eat,” Barry says.

 

Iris looks at her husband with no small amount of affection as she settles in her seat.  "Yeah, I’m going to need the energy. I’ve got more digging to do.”

 

Barry leans over and kisses her cheek.  “Ok,” he murmurs, sitting beside her. “I’ll stay up with you.”

 

“Babe, you don’t have to do that.”  Iris’s heart squeezes in her chest over her sweet and thoughtful husband.

 

He looks at her with resolve in his eyes and takes her hand in his.  “I know, but I want to.  After all, we have work to do.“

 

* * *

 

 

_ “Journalism can never be silent: that is its greatest virtue and its greatest fault. It must speak, and speak immediately, while the echoes of wonder, the claims of triumph and the signs of horror are still in the air.” _

_ — Henry Anatole Grunwal _

**Author's Note:**

> Meh about that ending, but oh wells. I wrote this a while ago and was inspired because there are so many god-awful things happening in the world everyday and sometimes it’s easy to feel helpless and to forget that we have the power to bring about change. Even in some small way. 
> 
> I hope you guys like this one :)


End file.
